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April 22nd, 1987 — Hawkins
Lucas bought Max a headphone splitter for her sixteenth birthday.
Her eyes narrowed at the unwrapped gift, the device shiny in its plastic with a picture of two people showcasing how it worked. Looking up, she found his usual nervous gaze whenever he did something out of the ordinary.
Lifting it, she asked, “Did you buy this for yourself?”
His eyes widened, alarmed. “W-what? No! No, I just— after everything— I figured you’d— we’d—”
Her stern expression began to crumble under his stammering. He was so easy to fluster. It reminded her of the single glances Nancy gave Steve sometimes and how he instantly shut up, or trailed off in the middle of his sentences until he spoke nonsense. Max found it held power; a power she didn’t think she possessed as a not-so girly girl. Then again, Nancy had proven over the years she wasn’t as one-dimensional as she first seemed. A smile pulled on her lips.
“I’m messing with you, Lucas,” she said, ending his misery.
Lucas sighed in relief, though a glimmer of annoyance shone through. “Why do you always need to do that?!”
“Because you make it easy!” she laughed.
The boy laughed as well after that, his gaze transfixed on her smiling mouth and she knew what he was thinking; shit, they were probably thinking the same thing: I’ve really missed your laugh. Something warm curled in her stomach and she had to look away before it got too much. They weren’t together. She shouldn’t assume anything, even if he did give her some ‘signs’, or whatever, because assuming led to disappointment. He saw her, she knew, but they also weren’t the same kids from eighth grade anymore. They were sophomores now. The time in between felt like an entire century, or like those colourful spiral toys stretched to its limits.
And though assuming was for losers, she couldn’t deny their summer after the curse of Vecna had been… nice. They spent most of their time together: biking around Hawkins, swimming in Lovers Lake with the gang, lounging in Mike’s basement during a downpour and skateboarding at the park. Most of their time, however, then and now, went towards their visits to the record store.
Harry’s Vinyls, a fairly new shop in comparison to the others, sold every vinyl out there. Prince, Madonna, Rush, The Police, U2, Van Halen — everything. From unknowns to the biggest stars on the planet. And Max loved it. Shoulder to shoulder, they listened to whatever they pleased and stayed until closing time. Then they either went home (if Lucas’ parents were particularly pressed about ‘curfew’), or they grabbed a shake and fries from the diner across the street. It became a ritual.
Don’t assume he wants something more, she told herself, he’s seen you float in the air like a fucking demon.
The others were in Mike’s basement right now. Their gifts — tapes, vinyls, t-shirts, new wheels for her skateboard — had been so nice, but this: Lucas waiting to give his gift until they were alone in the Wheeler kitchen with the neon blue cake between them… it felt different.
Lucas took a breath and tried again. “I figured, since you’re always listening to something at school… maybe we can listen together. Sometimes.”
“Sometimes.”
“Yeah.”
Her head tilted. “We don’t have the same taste in music.”
He shrugged. “I like Kate Bush.”
Her eyes rolled sideways, catching the bullshit. “I think everyone likes Kate Bush at this point. Considering.” His smile stiffened and she instantly felt bad for bringing it up. Why did she have to mention her demon-moment on her freaking birthday?! Tugging on a loose strand of long red hair, antsy, she also tried again: “Sorry. Thank you for the gift. Really.”
Lucas didn’t seem convinced. “I still have the receipt, if you wanna—”
“No,” she quipped, hand shooting across the island to grab his own. “I’m gonna keep it.”
That did the trick. He relaxed, that same smile returning and lighting up his face, closer than before unless her eyes deceived her. (She trusted he did get closer.) He would, assuming he still felt something. His hand twisted around, palm-up, and let his fingers intertwine with hers. Tentative. Her heart thrummed high in her chest. How did he always do that? How did he manage to balance gentleness and determination whenever he got around her. He turned his hand to hold hers, but he did so softly. She couldn’t wrap her head around it.
“You’re thinking,” he said.
“I am, smart-ass.” Her words didn’t hold any bite. Pursing her lips, her pale blue eyes locked on his dark brown ones. “I’m… okay, why are you like this with me?”
Her wording couldn’t have been more stilted and awkward, so unlike her usually smooth cadence and rhythm, but she soldiered through. She had the right to know, God damn it, if the boy she liked, liked her back, and it was his duty to tell her on her birthday. El would back her up on this.
Lucas blinked, once, twice, seemingly processing her sentence at the slowest pace imaginable, and she wished then to have taken it back. To just hold his hand and drag him downstairs to the others and play another game of Clue. Or simmer in the amicable silence for a beat more. Fantasise what they’d listen to together. A finger brushed over her knuckles.
“Isn’t it obvious, Max?” whispered the boy, his low tone full of knowing and affection.
She forced herself not to form a lovesick grin, schooling her expression into something more cool and not like she was totally insanely freaking out that her assumptions were correct, oh my God . Her clammy hands might give her away. “I guess,” she replied, aloof, but he saw right through her anyway.
Lucas grinned. “Yeah. You guess.”
Letting go of his hand, her shaky ones grabbed the cake and motioned at him to follow her downstairs, silently asking to drop the conversation for now. He understood. Of course, he did.
“Hey, guys,” she called out above the chatter and music, “who wants cake?!”
A week later, they sat in the back of Steve’s car. Him and Dustin were bickering as usual as they discussed whatever topic entertained them enough that day, while her and Lucas shared the Walkman with the splitter. Open Secrets by Rush blasted in their ears. Their pinkies overlapped and it was more thrilling than anything they did before.
“C’mon, Lucas, back me up on this?!” bellowed Dustin.
He pulled off one ear. “Hm?”
Scoffing, he dismissed the boy and turned back to Steve. “Never mind. You’re in la la land with Max now.”
Lucas didn’t correct him, tugging the ear back on and sending Max a soft smile. She pressed her lips together, but she knew her pale cheeks filled with heat. Such betrayal. She covered her hand more firmly with his. They hadn’t talked about his confession after the party, but it lingered between them. Waited. She didn’t feel hurried though; they listened to music and held hands. Head lolling back, she closed her eyes and focused on the lyrics.
I find no absolution/In my rational point of view/Maybe some things are instinctive/But there’s one thing you would do/You could try to understand me/I could try to understand you
Steve dropped them off at the record store while he continued his journey with Dustin to the video store. They were meeting Robin there to choose a movie for tonight. Lucas told her he was hoping for a Matthew Broderick flick, but she secretly gunned for Flashdance. Something happy. Something that made her feel like a totally regular teenager with regular friends and regular problems.
“Holy shit,” she exclaimed, eyes zeroing in on the newest Fleetwood Mac LP, Tango in the Night, striding towards the wooden crate and snatching it straight out. A disbelieving laugh puffed from her lips. No way! “They have it already. Suzie said they were coming out with something new, but…” Flipping it around, she read the titles of the songs. “This is so cool. Lucas, we have to listen to it!”
Looking up, she found him frozen by the threshold, staring at her with a glint in his eye that made her mad and insanely mushy at the same time. Her scuffy sneakers squeaked against the linoleum floor. Her brows raised, expectant. “Come on, Sinclair. What’re you waiting for?”
He shot forward at her words and shook of whatever stupour he’d been in. Slinging his backpack off his shoulder, he grabbed his headphones from the front pocket as she sought her own and the splitter. They put the LP on one of the record players, plugged in their splitter and then waited for the first notes to swell and fill their ears. A jittery Max could barely contain herself, hopping on her heels as though shifting on a skateboard.
Looking out for love/In the night so still/Oh, I'll build you a kingdom/In that house on the hill
It sounded bombastic. Lucas grooved beside her, nodding his head to the drum beat. She imagined them together at a concert outside of Hawkins, like Summerfest, spending the eleven days dancing and singing along to the musical acts. They wouldn’t be the traumatised cursed-beyond-belief teens of Hawkins, but just two faces in a crowd of 800,000. Max wanted it. She wanted it so bad.
They stayed and listened through the entire 12-song album. Had Harry not been peering at them from behind the register, she would’ve recorded most of them straight to one of the empty tapes she always kept in her backpack. Outside, the sky darkened to a mellow blue, the stars not quite seen due to the lights in town. She knew that meant the group was probably waiting on them. Mike would fuss about the perfect movie lighting and guard the snacks — a bowl of buttered popcorn — while he bickered with Dustin about obscure movie facts. The rekindled Nancy and Steve probably got all mushy in the corner of the couch. Robin always claimed the floor, legs akimbo, as she babbled about a weird customer or her newest crush.
Despite the festival dream, she looked forward to that, too. Seeing her friends and melting into the familiarity.
Lucas read her mind. “Maybe we should go. It’s getting late.”
Max nodded and waved goodbye at Harry, cheeky as they hadn’t bought a thing, and the two ran off when the old man began to curse about the ‘wretched teens of today’; though not far, just across the street for their shake and portion of fries. Nancy recently joined her mom in the whole ‘cabbage soup diet’ BS for a week, but Max couldn’t be bothered. Bumping hips with Lucas as they slid in front of the counter and asked for two chocolate shakes, whipped cream for him and none for her, sounded so much better than flavourless soup.
The neon lights of the diner illuminated their faces as they stepped out, Lucas holding the paper bag with their food. His free hand brushed hers, and then, in a moment of bravery, she grabbed it. He stared at her in surprise, but she raised her chin and tilted her head; daring to question her. He knew, anyway. He saw her.
“Let’s catch the bus. I don’t think Steve’s gonna be up for another drive downtown.”
By the time they got to the Wheeler house, they had started the movie and were almost halfway. To both their disgruntlement, it was neither Flashdance or a Matthew Broderick movie, but E.T. … again. The group barely acknowledged their presence as they descended the stairs.
“Guys,” Lucas groaned, face crumpling. “Why? Just why?”
“I asked for your input! I asked!” Dustin shouted. “But you were in Max-land!”
“I’m literally right here,” Max scowled.
“I wanted The Princess Bride, but I couldn’t convince them,” added Nancy, shrugging apologetically. “Sorry, Max.”
Max shook her head. “Not your fault. These mouthbreathers wouldn’t know what taste was if it looked them in the eye.”
“Hey!” exclaimed an offended Steve and Robin simultaneously.
“Rude!” added Mike.
“She’s not that wrong,” Nancy defended, tucking a permed curl behind her ear. “We’ve seen E.T. like a dozen times.”
“Nance,” gaped Steve.
A singular brow raised. “I’m back from Emerson for a weekend and you put on E.T. , Steve. I’m allowed to speak my mind.”
Robin chuckled as Steve’s face fell into a million pieces, stammering vowels though nothing coherent leaving his lips. Max giggled. That! It was that superpower she so admired in Nancy! Leaving Steve a befuddled mess!
Suddenly, Lucas tugged her forward and they plopped down on the little space left on the couch, squished together, the paper bag crinkling between their legs. Heat travelled up her side, thanking the darkness of the room that hid her obvious flush. Lucas handed her the shake and placed the bag of fries on their laps. It felt like they were at the actual movies. What if she placed her head on his shoulder? Then what?
And then she did it anyway. While E.T. pointed at the window asking for home, Max placed her head on the guy she felt most safe with. At first, he didn’t react and Max regretted feeling the fabric of his ringer tee against her temple, but then his foot pushed the paper bag under the couch and pulled her the tiniest bit closer. Without looking, she felt him smile.
That Monday, less than twelve hours later (Dustin teased her that night through the Walkie, calling it ‘Shoulder-Gate’ … idiot), Max sat on the bleachers flanking the lush green football fields. Despite the heat spiking up, it didn’t appear to be brittle. She puffed. The mayor begging people to use less water when they were using it all on a field that wasn’t used in the summertime. Kate Bush blared through her headphones, Walkman snug in the waist of her jeans.
It was one of those days…
Even if she had those highest highs like last night, nothing allowed her to escape from the lowest lows. They just slammed into her. When she woke up, she knew: one of those days. But she also knew she could talk to Lucas about it, or Robin — an unlikely friend made after Vecna — and feel a bit better. Latching onto her closest connections became the most important thing for Max… even if the boy in question played basketball and the girl already attended community college an hour away.
Max took a deep breath. Focus on the good. Focus on her friends. Focus on every non-shitty thing in her life.
“Hey, I was looking for you,” a voice called out from her right.
Eyes flitting to the source, she found Lucas at the bottom of the bleachers gazing up at her with a pinch between his brows. He wore his letterman jacket. It looked silly and attractive at the same time. Tugging her headphones down, she smiled at him. “Hey.”
But her voice sounded too scratchy, too exhausted, and he was at her side before she could say anything to keep him away. Not that she would’ve — she learned her lesson, thank you very much — but it was an instinctual thing that still lived inside her. Pausing the tape, silence followed and stretched.
When he didn’t say anything, she tutted her lips. “So?”
“Wanna talk about it?”
“Not really,” she quipped. “It’s just one of those days.”
“What can I do?” he urged.
The imploring eyes, the jacket, the hand on her arm, the knee bumping against hers… he was here. And he saw her. She nodded at the spot he sat. “Just… be here.”
For a minute, neither said anything. She focused on his body heat and his willingness to sit with her, chanting Kate’s lyrics in her head, slowly inhaling and exhaling. Dumping her head on his shoulder, the move already comfortable, and took a beat to form her words.
“You never talk about how you’re feeling with everything.”
His head leaned on top of hers, eyes straight ahead. “Because I got lucky,” he replied, simple. “I… yeah, sure, I get nightmares sometimes, but they’re not super bad and I don’t think about it during the day. At all. It’s like— sometimes I feel guilty about Patrick, but I know it wasn’t my fault. Or sometimes I remember how scared I was when Will disappeared, but he’s just a phone call away. I can call him and know he’s alright.” His hand slipped around hers. “I’m good, Max. Especially now.”
Somehow, the reassurance that he was alright eased her mind a bit. A worry less on the pile of shit in her brain. Knowing he slept peacefully at night, knowing he didn’t carry more weight than needed and checked in on his friends (as she checked in on him), calmed her down; not make her envious like it did last year. He was good. He was safe. And if he was safe, so was she.
She smirked. “I think you’re the only one who hasn’t lost their mind.”
“Uh…” he chuckled. “I disagree.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m… uh…” He let out a nervous laugh. “I lose my mind over you, a little.”
Max puffed. Of course, he had to say that. Of course, because he knew that she knew and they’d been dancing around the topic for more than a week, when they didn’t need to. And sure, there was no rush, but why wait at all? Why deny her stuttering heart and his endearing gaze; even if the odds weren’t in their favour, considering they broke up before. But if Max learned one thing from all of this, then it was to fight for the people she loved.
And she definitely loved Lucas at least a little bit.
“So stupid,” she breathed. And then she lifted her head, grabbed his cheeks and kissed him.
The kiss felt familiar but new at once. He wore cologne now and the leathery sleeves that curled around her weren’t like his usual soft shirts, but his lips that stretched into a smile was the same. He kissed the same.
“That,” he huffed out when she pulled back, noses brushing. “That’s why I lose my mind.”
Max laughed, eyes sparkling as she caressed his neck. “And how does that make you feel?”
“I like it. I like it a lot.”